Italian Doctor, Dream Proposal / Wanted: A Father for her Twins

by Margaret McDonagh / Emily Forbes

  Feeling ashamed and humiliated, she had determined never to get involved with a man again, the experience cementing her disbelief in love and romance. At least for herself. Now all that mattered in her life was her work. The only desire that bloomed inside her was to be the best doctor possible for her patients.

  So why had one glimpse of this man made her feel hotter than Hades? Why was her body betraying her as everything female in her responded to him, causing all her previously redundant hormones to spring to life? Even the dozen or so feet of floor space that separated them failed to lessen his impact or temper the searing force of his gaze.

  Something about the man and the way he looked at her made her tremble with awareness and caused an aching knot to tighten deep inside her. She couldn’t comprehend the potent affect he had on her. The immediate and uncharacteristic rush of arousal and blaze of sexual hunger were completely beyond her experience or understanding.

  In his early thirties, she judged, and younger than the rest of the people on the platform, the man was impossibly gorgeous. He had the kind of roguish, bad-boy edge about him that gave mothers the vapours and caused fathers to lock up their daughters and throw away the key. Everything about him oozed wickedness and sinful sensuality…warning enough, if any were needed, that he was far too much man for an inept novice like her to handle. Not that she had any intention of handling him. No way.

  Untamed, his dark hair was thick and over-long, brushing over the collar of his shirt almost to his shoulders, a few strands flopping across his forehead. The few days’ growth of stubble that enhanced the masculine set of his jawline added to his rakish good looks and made him appear more like some latter-day buccaneer than a respectable doctor. Those compelling eyes regarded her steadily. Another tingle feathered down her spine. It felt as if he were holding her captive, casting some kind of spell over her from which she would never escape. She had no idea what was happening to her but she sensed its importance, feared the consequences, and wanted to follow every instinct of self-preservation that was crying out for her to run away. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t break the connection between them.

  Ruth was dimly aware of the first speaker taking questions from the delegates, but it was too much effort to concentrate on what was being said. All her energies and focus were centred on the man in front of her. She sensed the very real danger he posed. Somehow she had to avoid him. When everyone rose for the first break, she would find Dr Linardi, have her talk with him, thank him for his help, and then make an excuse to leave early. Then she would hightail it back to Strathlochan and the safety of home.

  It was only when the chairman introduced the man she had come here to meet that Ruth was able to wrest her gaze free. Her pulse was racing in response to the intensity of the last few moments. And her hands had clenched so tightly that her short, neatly manicured nails had left crescent-moon indentations in her palms. Feeling vulnerable, her senses heightened, she waited to see who rose to their feet as the chairman handed the stage over to Dr Riccardo Linardi.

  Seconds ticked by.

  Then…finally…there was movement.

  Ruth froze in horror as he stood up.

  No!

  This was not the man she had been emailing, the man who had made her feel valued, and with whom she had agreed to spend the next two days. It couldn’t be. And yet some inner part of her had recognised the danger he posed and the lifechanging affect he could have on her.

  Feeling light-headed with shock, she watched him walk to the microphone with deceptively lazy strides and the catlike grace of a hunter. And then he spoke, introducing himself in perfect English but with a lilting Italian accent. A wave of fearful desire surged through her as the rich timbre of his voice electrified every nerve-ending in her body.

  He briefly scanned the room, then that mesmerising gaze inexorably found her once more, calling to her, claiming her, binding her to him. Terrified, she trembled as she absorbed the enormity of what was happening. This man had jolted her out of her safe cocoon and rocked the very foundations of her world.

  Ruth didn’t know what to do.

  Go…or stay and face the dangerously exciting possibilities that lay ahead?

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘MAY I pour you some coffee, signorina? Or would you prefer tea?’

  Ruth had not needed to hear the question, delivered in that knee-weakening, huskily accented voice, to know that Dr Linardi had moved up beside her in the informal queue at the self-service refreshment table. She had felt his approach. Every atom of her being was attuned to him. Had been since the moment their gazes had first met.

  His talk had been mind-blowing, displaying the breadth of knowledge and passion for the subject that had been so evident in his emails. He had inspired and enthralled her then but even more so in person. Once she had overcome the shock of him, and their inexplicable connection, she had forced herself to focus on her notes. In part because it stopped her looking at him. So she had written copiously, struggling to put the sound of his voice and what it did to her out of her mind. She’d already learned so much over the last month, and listening to Dr Linardi’s talk only made her more fascinated with the often obscure and puzzling worlds of allergy and immunology.

  That she was also fascinated by the man himself, Ruth tried to ignore. But she had been aware every moment of him watching her. And the knowledge that they would soon meet face to face, that she would most likely be alone with him later in the day, had brought back the urge to run, as if for her very life. He was going to turn her whole world upside down. She knew it. Was scared of it. But she hadn’t been able to move a muscle to save herself.

  What shocked and puzzled her was that a traitorous part of her didn’t want to escape…wanted, instead, to discover where this blaze of attraction might lead. That it should be Dr Linardi who had caused reactions and responses she had never experienced before made things all the more complicated. What if he did offer her a job? Could she work with him if every time she saw him or heard his voice she felt the burn of desire? She couldn’t imagine he would want an employee who acted like a teenager going through her first crush.

  Dr Linardi had been waylaid by several people as he had attempted to leave the stage and head in her direction at the start of the mid-morning break. Thankful for the temporary reprieve, Ruth had slipped on her jacket and, leaving her briefcase under her chair as other people had done, she had gone in search of the refreshments. Feeling nervous, self-conscious and incredibly confused, she had needed as much time as possible to compose herself. All the while she had known there would be no escape, had sensed that he was closing in on her—stalking her as a hunter did its prey.

  Now he had caught her and he was waiting for her answer. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, she turned her head and met the full force of that compelling gaze. ‘Thank you. Coffee, please.’ She silently cursed herself, feeling like a tongue-tied schoolgirl rather than a thirty-year-old doctor.

  ‘Milk and sugar?’

  ‘A splash of milk but no sugar,’ she managed, finding the mundane nature of their first actual encounter bizarre given the frighteningly real electric current that flowed back and forth between them.

  Half turned away from him as they waited in line at the table, Ruth found herself hemmed in and jostled by the press of other delegates as someone in the line tried to manoeuvre out, carrying a tray of cups and saucers. As she lost her balance, Dr Linardi’s arm came out to steady her, an instinctive gesture of protection as he moved to place himself between her and the crowd. The action brought her even closer to him. So close that when she drew in a shaky breath she caught a teasing hint of his scent. Cedar. She recognised it thanks to her best friend Gina’s interest in essential oils. On him, the aroma was warm and exotic, masculine and arousing, heightening her awareness of him. Even more disturbing was the way the touch of his palm resting on her hip seemed to brand her right through her clothes.

  ‘You are all right?’ he asked with evident concer
n.

  ‘Yes. Thank you.’

  He hesitated, and they shared another moment of silent connection before he released her and turned to busy himself with their drinks. Ruth exhaled a shaky breath, feeling unaccountably light-headed. She pressed one hand to her throat, feeling every throb of her pulse against her palm. Up close he was imposing…six feet of impressive, male perfection. Unable to look away from him, she watched as he filled two cups with fresh, richly scented coffee, adding milk to one and a teaspoon of sugar to the other.

  He had nice hands, she noted, well cared for, capable and dexterous. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring and there was no tell-tale paler band of skin to betray that he had ever worn one. The sleeves of his pale blue shirt had been turned up to the elbows, revealing leanly muscled forearms, the olive-toned skin dusted with dark hairs. A functional watch with a plain black strap circled his left wrist. Nothing flashy or ostentatious for this man. Her gaze slid upwards. He wasn’t wearing a tie and the top couple of buttons of his shirt were open, allowing a view of the strong column of his throat. Again her gaze roved on, over his handsome profile, just as he turned his head and caught her assessing him.

  Ruth felt warmth bloom across her cheeks. Then he smiled, and she feared she might melt into a puddle at his feet. Gentle laughter lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes and the hint of a dimple teased his right cheek, adding to his roguish appeal. Being so gorgeous ought to be illegal. Once more her gaze locked with his and, close to, she discovered that his eyes were an unusual dark hazel with intriguing speckles of gold in them. And they were fringed by the kind of thick, long lashes women yearned for—or paid to imitate—but which in no way softened his overwhelming masculinity.

  ‘Come, signorina, let us find somewhere away from this melee to enjoy our coffee and talk.’

  Trying to ignore the effect the sound of his voice had on her, Ruth accepted the cup and saucer he gave her, fearing she would spill her drink because her hands were shaking so much. As he drew her away from the milling throng and the noise of myriad simultaneous conversations, he smiled and exchanged greetings with several people, but refused to allow them to detain him. His hand settled possessively at the base of her spine, keeping her close to him and guiding her through an open door and into a small, empty side room where a few tables and chairs had been laid out. Ruth set down her coffee and undid the button on her jacket, thanking him as he solicitously drew out a chair for her to sit down before pulling his own chair nearer to her.

  ‘We have not been properly introduced. I am Dr Riccardo Linardi. But my friends call me Rico.’ He rested one arm on the table as he faced her. ‘I feel that you and I are going to become very close friends.’

  Wondering quite how close, Ruth took a fortifying sip of her coffee. As she leaned forward to replace her cup back on its saucer, her jacket parted, revealing the name badge pinned on her jumper. She saw his gaze follow the movement but, before she could speak, shocked surprise registered on his face.

  ‘You are Dr Ruth Baxter?’ Incredulity laced his voice, while the possessive nature of his next words stunned her and made her pulse race. ‘My Ruth?’

  It took Rico a moment to recover from the initial amazement that this woman, who had all but brought him to his knees from the first moment he had looked at her, was the woman he had been emailing for a month, the woman he had invited here in the hope she would accept his offer of a job. His Ruth. The coincidence did not escape him. Rico didn’t know how it had happened, but it was destiny. Fate. They had been meant to meet.

  There was nothing remotely scientific about the knowledge, but deep inside Rico knew it was true—knew that the special moment of recognition that had happened first to his father and then to Seb when they had met their future wives had now happened to him. Ruth was his dream woman come to life, the one he had been waiting for. Not that he could tell her that. Not yet. She would think he was crazy. And she was already edgy. More than once he’d sensed her urge to flee. Thankfully she was still here, but if he handled things badly at this early stage, he would spook her. They needed to get to know each other and for Ruth to feel comfortable with him. Not easy in this setting. And discovering her identity was an unexpected twist that added hugely to the complications that lay ahead. He would need to consider those. But for now, conscious of where they were, he needed to keep things as professional as possible until they had the opportunity to be alone.

  Waiting was not going to be easy, however, so he allowed himself a few moments to study her and drink in all the details that were revealed now he was close to her. Nervousness and bewilderment were reflected in the eyes that shyly observed him—eyes that were not blue, as he had predicted, but a beautiful sage green.

  She looked adorably flustered by what was happening and also a little scared. The former brought a welling of affectionate amusement, but the latter concerned him. Her inexperience had been obvious immediately and he was astonished by it. Unlike most other women he had met, women who knew how to use their wiles to get what they wanted and had no compunction about doing so, Ruth seemed not to have any understanding of her own appeal.

  Ruth was like a breath of fresh air, with no artifice about her, no game playing, no hidden agenda. Instead she displayed an unusual innocence for someone with all her attributes, intelligence and maturity. She had a natural, understated beauty yet was genuinely unaware of it, just as she had no clue about her own sensuality and desirability. And she appeared mystified and more than a little unnerved by the intense mutual attraction they shared. Which only intrigued him more. Ruth was a puzzle, a mass of contrasts. He couldn’t wait to unravel all her secrets and to discover how she could be so competent and authoritative in her professional life but seem all at sea in terms of social interaction.

  It was unsurprising that Ruth seemed overwhelmed. He certainly was. He’d never experienced anything like this in his life and he was still struggling to make sense of the suddenness of it. Not to mention the urgency of the desire, the desperate need to keep her close.

  There were many issues to be faced and overcome, Rico acknowledged, but he was determined that no matter how unexpected, and how inconvenient the timing, having found Ruth, he was going to do everything he could not to lose her again. Careful not to rush her, knowing they both needed time to make sense of what was happening, he curbed his impatience to ask the thousand and one questions bubbling within him and gave her a few moments’ peace to drink her coffee and compose herself.

  The couple of times he had managed to be close to her he had enjoyed the subtle scent of lavender and sweet sexy woman, a combination unique to Ruth that aroused and excited him, and to which he was already addicted. As he watched, sunlight spilled through the window beside them and reflected on Ruth’s hair, making it shine like a halo of pale gold around her face. Just looking at her took his breath away. She was amazing. If this was how Seb had felt when first meeting his special woman, it was no wonder his cousin had been so tied up in knots. Having seen what Seb had been through eight months ago, Rico hoped he had learned enough from his cousin’s experiences not to make the same mistakes in his as yet unplanned campaign to win Ruth.

  The buzz of awareness and charge of desire were ever-present, but he also felt edgy with tension, knowing he was stepping into the unknown. He was in danger of breaking all his rules about any kind of involvement with a colleague…or potential colleague. But the rules he had lived by until now went out of the window when faced with the reality and the temptation of Ruth. He had never felt like this before, had never experienced this rush of emotion and out-of-control need. Somehow he had to find a way to reconcile work life and private life because now that Fate had delivered Ruth to him, he was not letting her go.

  Pushing his coffee aside, no longer needing the caffeine as Ruth was the only stimulant he required, he indulged in studying her. If she wore any make-up at all, it was done with such a light touch it was unnoticeable. There was nothing worse in his opinion than kissing a woman
and getting a mouthful of gunk, of tasting powder and grease instead of her sweetness. That would not happen with Ruth. Close up he could see that a faint dusting of freckles was scattered across her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose, and her skin was flawless, almost translucent, incredibly fair.

  He was relieved to see no wedding or engagement ring on her finger, but confirming there was no one in her life at the moment was a top priority. Aside from the delicate platinum chain around her neck—her jumper hiding whatever was suspended from it—and the inexpensive watch on her right wrist, she wore no adornment. She didn’t need any.

  Rico was disappointed as the other tables began to fill up around them and their moment of seclusion was lost. He wanted to keep Ruth all to himself. But several people stopped to speak to him and it was some minutes before he could politely extract himself and return his full attention to her.

  ‘I am sorry, cara. If we are visible here we will not be able to avoid interruptions,’ he told her with a mix of apology and frustration.

  ‘It’s all right.’ Her smile was shy and tentative but so pure it sucked the air from his lungs and left him feeling as if he had been punched in the gut. ‘I’m sure you’re in demand and lots of people will want to discuss things with you. Events like this must give you the chance to catch up with colleagues and exchange views on the run.’

  Relieved she was relaxing a little, Rico nodded in agreement, enjoying the sound of her voice, which was melodious yet throaty, her English tones clear and refined, and without an identifiable regional accent. ‘You are my guest, Ruth, and my time is devoted to you. These days conferences are thankfully shorter and more focused than they used to be as we are all too busy to be away from our posts for long.’

  ‘You must have a full list of patients awaiting you in America,’ she suggested, demonstrating how much they had yet to discover about each other.